


Surprise, you're a Grandpa!

by Sensue



Series: Suitcase of Memories [5]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Adoption, Brotherhood AU, Comedy, Family, Foster Care, Gen, Grandfather, Love, Surprise Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-19
Updated: 2020-08-19
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:35:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25999843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sensue/pseuds/Sensue
Summary: After taking in troubled twelve-year-old psychic Caleb Reaves, Dr. Mackland Ames has been busy trying to build a home for his small family. He forgets to call his father. Hilarity ensues. And we learn a little more about our favorite grandpa.
Series: Suitcase of Memories [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1887088
Kudos: 3





	Surprise, you're a Grandpa!

[ ](https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hgr-xwZ8meU/YAO4Nve_lJI/AAAAAAAAAxQ/IWHsQW3UBnMDpzv1SmVgfvywQXhj5MbqACLcBGAsYHQ/s0/surpriseyoureagrandpabanner.jpg)

_1983 –New York City  
Home of Dr. Mackland Ames & Caleb Reaves_

Dr. Mackland Ames tiredly walked towards his front door. He'd had an incredibly exhausting day; his secretary had booked him solid for the entire morning; throughout the day, he'd met four patients who self-diagnosed brain tumors after having 'excruciating' head pain, which, after countless hours and unneeded testing, ended up being a migraine, an impacted tooth, and two cases of eye strain. The entire morning had been wasted lecturing his patients and their families on the dangers of practicing medicine without a license. He'd warned them to leave the diagnosis to trained medical professionals next time but knew that they'd come back next month with a new ailment.

His afternoon was spent with a young couple whose three-year-old daughter had gone missing for over twenty-four hours. The police and FBI had been called in to help find the little girl, unfortunately with no success. Dr. Ames had arrived _just in time_ to help grandma carry the groceries and little Jenny inside. Little Jenny's mother apologized continuously for over an hour (in between tears of joy and fits of anger at her husband). Apparently, he'd forgotten that his mother volunteered to take her granddaughter for the weekend. Thankfully, the child was safe, warm, and back with her terrified parents. Mackland was relieved that he hadn't had to use his gifts to find her dead body—that was, until the genius police officers had told the parents that he was psychic. Grandma, of course, was excited; she'd wanted him to read her palm. He'd quickly made up an excuse, and ducked out before the woman forced all of her ' _knowledge'_ of psychic power on him; already having been explained that she was a big fan of the Sylvia Brown church.

And now, he'd wanted nothing more than to go home, relax for a couple of hours before spending the rest of the day with his son. He only hoped that Caleb had gotten through the day without any discipline or authority issues. The boy had only been with him for two weeks, and he'd already received two notes from his teachers about his attitude. He'd tried to convince the private school principal to give Caleb another chance, explaining that he needed time to adjust to the new surroundings; the woman didn't look impressed, but she'd agreed to give Caleb a _little_ more time to acclimate to the rules and regulations of such a prestigious preparatory academy. Mac walked Caleb out, a hand on his shoulder in warning before handing him a bucket to clean the spitballs he'd flung at the 'School Spirit' mural. As punishment, he grounded Caleb for a week for the stunt—earning him a glare, a slammed door, and an 'I hate you' that echoed throughout their apartment.

Afterward, Mac sat at the kitchen table just staring at his hands, the 'I hate you' fresh in his mind. It had been a very difficult transition for them both. The first few days had been extraordinary. He'd taken a week off work in order to get Caleb settled into their new life together. Mac had made arrangements to send him to a college preparatory academy, instead of a public school. They'd gone shopping, re-arranged Caleb's new bedroom, purchased books, clothing, music, posters, decorations—everything a twelve-year-old boy could want. Mac put his foot down when Caleb had wanted a television in his room. There was only one television in the entire apartment, and it was only turned on for an hour a day. Mac tried to get him to understand that television wasn't conducive to a healthy mind and encouraged him to read instead. Caleb had nodded, smiled, and agreed to his terms. They'd also set up simple rules for each other to follow, such as calling if they were delayed and knocking before entering. Things were going so well…

All of a sudden, Caleb returned to his previous ways—acting out, disrupting classes, finding ways to get into trouble. He'd tried to talk to him in order to understand why he was behaving in this unacceptable manner, instead Caleb proceeded to physically push him away; screaming at him to 'get out of his head' and 'leave him alone'. The boy would run to his room and slam the door—some days he wouldn't even come out for dinner. Mac would knock on the door, and find that Caleb was hiding under the covers, feigning sleep. Mac would pull up a chair and sit beside his bed; sometimes he would just talk to him about his day or read to him. And although Caleb never talked to him, Mac felt comfort in the fact that he was still listening.

The situation worried the doctor into calling Abraham Sullivan, Caleb's caseworker, for help. The man was intelligent and obviously had a superior experience with children like Caleb. After spending a few minutes alone talking with him; Caleb would come out of his room and promptly apologize. Mac would forgive him and the cycle would re-start the next day. Abe told him that Caleb was just 'testing the boundaries', trying to cause trouble _on purpose_ to see what he could get away with.

Pastor James Murphy would call nightly, to check on 'his boy' and, of course, had a theory of his own. He'd imagined that Caleb was afraid that Mac would change his mind about the adoption and kick him out…so instead, Caleb was creating a self-fulfilling prophecy. It made a certain sense to the doctor; if only he could figure out how to help him get passed this.

The only advice either of them could offer was to "stay strong" and not let him get away with it. That Caleb needed discipline and shouldn't be allowed to continue treating adults and figures of authority with such disrespect. He was trying his best—but it was exhausting. A couple of weeks ago, he'd been a single young bachelor in his peak and now, he was a father to a troubled pre-teenager who hated him. Abe told him to be thankful that he hadn't tried to run away yet. Mac just shook his head, it would be interesting to see the boy try—their psychic connection was incredibly strong. He always seemed to know where he was and, many times, felt that they could read each other's minds. If Caleb truly wanted to run away, he would need to learn how to shield his gifts; and much to Mac's dismay _and relief_ , Caleb wasn't interested in learning about his abilities just yet.

Mac only hoped that this phase would end quickly. For one, it was dangerous for him to remain ignorant about his abilities. And two, he truly cared for Caleb and wanted them to be a family—he'd prefer that they didn't remain a dysfunctional one. Dr. Ames rests his head against the doorframe of the front door, trying to put his thoughts in order before turning the key and walking in. Immediately, his hand reached for the light switch, and as the room lit up, he noticed the man sitting at his kitchen table.

He walked in, quickly shutting the door behind him and then nearly ran to meet him. The old man was clearly upset, his face pale and he was wiping at his face with a familiar handkerchief, the one that his father had always kept with him—a gift given to him by wife on their wedding day.

"Dad?" Mac kneeled beside his chair and put his hand on his father's shoulder, squeezing lightly. "What happened? Are you alright?"

The old man stared directly into his son's eyes. "How could you, Mackland?"

Mac sat back on his heels, staring up at him in confusion. "How could I, _what_?"

Cullen Ames sat up, now towering over his son, who was still kneeling and staring up at him, open-mouthed on the floor. "I got a call from Martin Shores. You know, the family attorney? He was excited and asked me how you and your son were getting along! Imagine my shock, Mackland! I asked the man what he'd been drinking! My son, Mackland Ames has a boy? I said, 'no, no, you're mistaken. My son would've told me the news.' Martin was in shock. He didn't want to argue with me and apologized to me for 'spilling the beans'. So, what did I do? I came here! So, what do you have to say for yourself!"

Mac pushed himself into one of the kitchen chairs across from his father with a huff and gave his father a slight smile. "Surprise, you're a grandfather."

The older man rubbed the handkerchief as if it had some magical power to tell him what to say. He looked completely shaken. "Well, when do I get to meet the young lady? I mean, I assume you'll do right by her?"

Shaking his head, Mac tried to stop his father. "Dad, I'm not getting married—."

Cullen jumped out of his chair and started pacing, Mackland left to watch his father's tirade begin. "Well, of course, you won't marry the poor girl! You've only _shamed her_ into having a child out of _wedlock_ ; and I know that it's the 80s and that things aren't as 'old-fashioned' as they used to be, but have some decency, Mackland! I thought I taught you better than this. You need to take responsibility for your actions!"

Mackland bit his lip, every few seconds he tried to interrupt, but was ignored…so there was no point to trying to speak until the old man had run out of steam. Mac knew his father—he was only just winding up.

Abruptly, he stopped his frantic pacing and whirled around to stare at his son. "Oh, my god. This is all my fault, isn't it? Everyone told me that I should re-marry after your mother, if only for your sake…but I couldn't bring myself to... And now—."

Mac stepped in front of him, hands out, "Dad, please, calm down. It's not your fault—you're misunderstanding the situation here."

Cullen shook his head, "How am I misunderstanding the situation?"

"He's not a baby, Dad! He's twelve years old!" Mac yelled, trying to get his father to listen to him.

It certainly stopped the older man in his tracks; his mouth flew open, which he quickly covered with a hand. "Oh, my god. _**I knew it!**_ I knew that you'd run rampant in that Medical School!" He turned around and started pointing fingers, arms flailing around as he became even more agitated. At that point, Mackland just flung his hands up in the air and sat back down. "You turned your back on the family business. 'Fine!' I said, 'as long as you're happy.' You rebel and changed your major from business to medicine. 'Fine.' I said—."

"Actually, I think you disowned me for the summer-." Mackland inserted.

The tirade continued as if nothing was said. "I watched you become this—this arrogant little BRAT who thought he was on top of the world just because he was a brain surgeon! You drank and you—you _**fornicated**_ with _loose_ _gold-digging_ women. You spent all your time with people who'd only boost your ego!"

"Dad, please!"

"No, Mackland! I lived through all of this praying that you'd learn from your mistakes! That you'd eventually grow up into a man who I could be proud of. And after your accident," the memories made the older man shake, and he'd wiped the tears from his eyes. "After your accident, I was the only one who sat beside you, Mackland. I was the only one! Your _so-called_ friends—they left you for dead! I sat beside you for _three months_ , praying you'd wake—that you'd still be my intelligent, sweet boy… even when the doctors had told me about the damage the accident had caused…" His voice broke, and he paused for several seconds trying to compose himself. "I had to help you learn to talk, walk again…"

In that time, Mackland took his father's hand and led him to sit across from him at the table. He held his hands tightly, "I'm sorry, Dad. I'm _so sorry_ that I put you through that. But it's over now. I'm not the same as I was back then…you know that. I'm working to make things better."

Cullen was shaken, "What did I do? Why didn't you tell me?" His hands flew to cup his son's face. "Are you mad at me? Have I done something wrong?"

"Shhh, Dad. No. It's my fault; I should've told you. But, it's been such a busy, difficult time-." Mac shook his head, "Still, it's not an excuse. I should've told you…"

Cullen pulled himself together somewhat, "Yes, you should have." He looked serious, "Well, tell about him." He waved his hand impatiently at his son.

Mac smiled widely, "His name is Caleb. He's this incredibly intelligent twelve-year-old boy. Even though he acts like an adult already. He's –uh—Well, I think you'd probably say that he's got spunk."

The front door slammed open, and the walking attitude sauntered in. "Hey, Mac. Who's got spunk?" He walked in, kicking his dirty boots in the corner, knowing full well that they were supposed to be placed in the closet—but wanting to get a rise out of his guardian. He threw down his backpack near the table, noticing the company. "Hey, who the hell are you?"

Mac's eyes widened, "CALEB!" Even Cullen looked appalled. "Where are your manners?"

"Gee, I'm sorry. Could you _please tell me_ who the _hell_ you are?" Caleb walked over to the refrigerator and pulled out the milk, then proceeded to drink directly from the carton. He closed the flap, returning the carton to the shelf, slammed the door shut, and then plopped down to sit beside the old man. "So, you gonna tell me or do I have to guess?" He arched an eyebrow at them.

Cullen stared at his son first, then turned towards his new grandson, and then back towards Mackland. "You know what, son? I think I'm going to enjoy this."

Caleb squinted at him, "Enjoy what?"

Cullen smiled—a great big wide show-all-your-teeth smile—and started laughing. "Caleb, I'm your grandfather, Cullen Ames." He wrapped his arms around the startled boy, squeezing him tightly. "And I'm going to enjoy spoiling you."

Caleb's eyes lit up, while his new father started frowning, "You are?"

"Absolutely, now, why don't you go get your coat? I think both of us should get to know each other—talk, share our lives, and have some fun!" He motioned for the boy to hurry up.

Mac jumped up, anxious, "Dad? What are you doing? Caleb's grounded."

"Mackland, _**shut up**_. I've waited for _years_ for this moment…and after years of thinking it would never happen—it finally has and I'm not going to let _**you ruin it**_." Cullen got up, 'dusted' his suit with both hands, and then put on his trench coat.

"Waited? Waited for what?" Mac shook his head at his father.

"Plain and simple, son, _revenge._ There's an old saying that my father used to tell me… you never know what hardships you put your parents through until you have children of your own. And now, I see that you know! And I'm going to enjoy it!"

Caleb ran up to him, "I'm ready." He looked excited but stopped short of leaving. "Mac, are you coming?" He looked at him anxiously from the door to his new father.

Mac smiled at him, "Do you want me to come? If you want to be alone…"

Cullen looked at them strangely, wondering if he was missing something, but waited for the boy to answer.

"I want you to come, Mac." He looked at his feet, "I'm tired of being alone…you know, it's over-rated anyway."

Mac smiled, staring around at his apartment in wonder at all of the new changes in his life. "Yes, it's definitely over-rated."

He grabbed his coat and walked out with his new family, rolling his eyes at the exaggerated stories his father was telling his son. "That's not true, Dad."

Cullen laughed, "Yes, it is. Caleb, when Mackland was your age, I got called to the principal's office because he scratched off the C-L in class and underlined the rest of it."

Caleb laughed, "I have to remember that one!"

"Dad! Stop. I didn't do that, it was a friend of mine…and it's _illegal_ to deface public property!"

"You were in detention for two weeks!" Cullen argued back.

Caleb walked beside the two men, laughing when Mac put his hands over his son's ears as if to block his father from negatively influencing him. Caleb grabbed the men by their sleeves and stopped their motion, "You know what? You're awesome, grandpa!"

He let go and started laughing ahead of them, completely missing the grateful look that Mac had given his father.

He turned his head to stare at them, impatiently waiting for them, then rolled his eyes when they'd hugged. "Enough with the hugging! What's with you Ames guys? Don't you know that it's un-cool to hug?"

Mac ran up to him and purposefully hugged him, then let him go and allowed his father to do the same. The boy squirmed in their grasp. "I don't know, Caleb…but since you're one of us now, I think you need to get used to it."

They all started laughing at the scared expression on Caleb's face. "You're messing with me right? You're really not gonna hug me _all the time_? –I mean, just, like on my birthday or something? Maybe at Christmas?" He watched his father and grandfather walk towards the car, "Come on? You're kidding? Dudes?"

**Author's Note:**

> This chapter is a 'missing scene' from the Brotherhood AU series, but this is inspired by "My Hero is You" By Tara. (Music Video posted on YouTube), especially the lyrics: "I try to push you away but you never move."


End file.
